A Tale of Two Spies
by FictionFree
Summary: ONESHOT. "...this isn't exactly the story of a Prince and Princess, now is it? They're spies, darling. And spies don't need saving." / As told by a seasoned operative. Ally owns the GG.


**A/N: hey, guys. i've got some pretty important things to tell you, so you can either read the rest of this author's note, or skip ahead to the story. thanks a million!**

**first things first: i've placed myself on a temporary hiatus. however, i'm most likely going to continue dropping back in with a short one-shot or chapter or something, just so i don't lose the wonderful things i've found on this site. **

**second: i know i'm leaving a bunch of stories unfinished, but this is a necessary break. if i didn't decide to go through with it, i don't think i would have been able to come back with anything at all. i still have a million ideas running through my mind, especially for Forbidden, but the thing is, i lost my muse and motivation at the same time and i want it to come back. writing became a chore and i never wish that upon anyone. i hope you can understand.**

**finally: when i do come back, i want to have a clean slate and a mostly-finished story. yes, i've been working on Forbidden, but that's all (please, please forgive me). i'll let you guys know my plans when i figure out what to do. **

**now shoo. read on, my loves.**

* * *

An elderly woman rocked back and forth in her wooden chair. Her eyes, filled with so much knowledge, stared blankly out the window of her small house. It was too big for her, it seemed, with its barely-furnished bedrooms and stark walls. Any house was too big for one person.

The wind filtered in delicately through the cracks in her door. As blue eyes continued to gaze through glass, two pairs of feet skipped up the steps to her front door. Without bothering to knock, it was pushed open and the sound of innocent giggles filled her ears.

"Grandma!" a young girl, barely 7 years old, cheered. She rushed into the dimly lit room where her grandmother sat alone, pulling the woman's arm into a tight embrace.

She was closely followed by a male of the same age, who dragged on behind her with a sullen look on his face. "Hi," he murmured, dropping onto the rug beside his grinning companion.

When the woman opened her mouth to speak, it was a quiet, yet compelling sound. Her voice demanded the attention she deserved but had hardly received growing up. She wasn't sure she liked it now, either. "Hello."

"Grandma, this is Gabe," the girl announced. "He's my new neighbor. Momma said he could come see you because he likes cookies and you make the best cookies!"

It was true. While she had inherited the majority of her features from her mother—from the blonde hair to the blue eyes—it was a relief when she found out she could actually cook.

"Nice to meet you, Gabe," she replied, smiling warmly. Almost instantly, the boy seemed to perk up; though it may have been due to the mention of cookies.

He shook his light brown locks out of his face, offering a small wave. When he blinked up at her, she could barely contain a smile.

"Hey, Grandma?" the girl spoke up, bouncing excitedly on her bottom. "Tell us that story again!"

She knew exactly what story her granddaughter was speaking of, but something made her shake her head slowly, as though it was her old age getting to her memory. However, she knew nothing could—not permanently, anyway.

"What do you mean, Annie?" she asked, glancing at the pair of children.

Annie sighed dramatically, flailing her hands about. "You know! The story about the invisible girl and mysterious boy, _remember_?"

She laughed at the exasperated look the young one sported. "I don't think your Grandpa liked that story very much."

The little girl scoffed—an action she just recently learned how to do. According to her mother, it made people sound snobby—whatever that meant. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"

The suggestion made her worn face frown, wondering when her relative got so smart. Then she laughed, inwardly, knowing it ran in the family. Maturity always came so early…

"Alright," she finally gave in. "Get comfy, because it's a pretty long story."

* * *

"Listen, Gallagher Girl," a young man said, gripping his girlfriend's hand tightly. "I've been meaning to tell you something."

She stopped walking then, meeting his vibrant green eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen—not because they were so bright and eye-catching, but because they had seen the world in all its extremes, and they still gazed back at her as though the earth would never stop turning.

"What is it?" she inquired. It took him nearly ten whole seconds to find the words he wanted to use.

A sigh escaped from between his lips. "I'm just going to come out and say this, alright?"

When Cammie nodded, he opened his mouth to speak again, but his mind blanked and he had to shake his head slightly to try and get the syllables out. When he couldn't, a frustrated growl tore from his throat and he swore in Italian. Finally, he released her hand and spat out, "I'm leaving."

She blinked slowly, showing neither surprise nor understanding—just the simple acknowledgement of his less-than-eloquent declaration. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he corrected, falling back into his calm, collected façade. "I just…I'm being moved to Barcelona on a long-term mission and I thought you should know."

_I thought you should know._ Of course she ought to know! She was his girlfriend _and_ partner, for crying out loud!

A torrent of angry thoughts and obscenities rushed through Cammie's mind, but she quickly shoved them away in favor of a more rational response. "What?"

_Rational doesn't always mean intelligent,_ she thought with a sardonic smile. Zach ran a hand through his hair and she could see his exterior slipping. "It wasn't the kind of assignment I could refuse. They needed someone and I was the most qualified for the job."

"What do you have to do?" she asked quietly. Judging by the look on his face, she would probably regret the answer. She tried to backpedal. "Do you know when you leave?"

His voice was gruff as he told her, avoiding her gaze, "Sunday."

"As in, _this_ Sunday?" The revelation caught her by surprise. It was already Friday. She hadn't thought he would be leaving so soon, despite the fact that the CIA was known for dropping this kind of news so abruptly.

Zach nodded, a regretful look on his face. It saddened her to know he was feeling the same way she was. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Cammie reached up to frame his face between her cold hands. He turned his head slightly to kiss the inside of her wrist and she nearly shuddered.

His breath was warm on her skin as he bent slightly to place a kiss on her forehead. They stood there for several minutes, in the frigid air, taking their time with this gentle embrace. Eventually, Zach was the one to step back.

"It's getting cold. You should go," he murmured. His breath fogged in the chilly air as night approached, taking away whatever heat the sun provided. He took her hands in his again, toyed with her fingertips, before turning to leave.

As he made his way down the narrow sidewalk, Cammie admired the strength and agility in his stride until she lost sight of him.

* * *

"What happens next?" Annie asked, jumping up from her spot on the dusty floor. "Does he end up staying? Why does he have to go?"

The older woman slowly stood up from her chair, gripping the arm tightly. A smile graced her features. "You've heard this story so many times, you probably know it better than I do."

The little girl shook her head vigorously. "No way. Hey, Grandma, can we have cookies?"

Her question was accompanied by a dimpled smile and wide eyes. Unable to resist, the woman made her way into the kitchen to prepare the snacks. As she worked, she continued with the story.

* * *

Cammie met up with Zach at the airport. He was flying first-class with the cover of a wealthy businessman. She inwardly snorted when he told her. Zach was probably the last person to sit around behind a desk for a living. No, he was much more suited to action and adventure.

"Two weeks, tops," he told her, standing close to her shivering body. It was late November and the season had brought along a series of blizzards and snow days.

"Two weeks," Cammie clarified. One hand reached out to grip his bicep, squeezing gently to assure herself he was still there for the moment.

The time came for Zach to leave, but before he escaped from her vision, Cammie saw him turning around. They locked eyes briefly, but in that split second, he smiled and it was something so familiar, so comforting—so _Zachary_. And she couldn't imagine two weeks without him.

Before she knew it, those weeks turned into months and it wasn't until May that she found something to really occupy her mind with.

For Cammie, it was easy to think about a hundred different things at once. This was both a blessing and a curse. While she could get mountains of work completed in a satisfactory amount of time, she also couldn't help but think of her boyfriend.

During the last week of May, Cammie found herself on a train ride to New York for a small assignment. It was nothing major—nothing she hadn't handled before—but an uneasy feeling had clamped down on her chest, weighing her down. There was no reason for it, she decided, and proceeded to ignore the feeling.

As she checked into her hotel room, the clerk took his time welcoming her. In Cammie's opinion, the man spent far too long talking about the "joys of the Priority Hotel!" But if he hadn't, she might not have stumbled across the surprise of a lifetime.

"Oh, _stop_," a very attractive, very exotic lady giggled. She and her date were both dressed formally, and even from behind, Cammie could tell they were an attractive couple. She admired the woman's dress from her position at the clerk's desk, an almost envious look in her eyes when the man leaned in to whisper something in her ear.

The action made her think of Zach...She shook his image from her head, determined to keep a straight head.

But when the couple turned around to head out the doors, she could barely stand upright. Her knees suddenly felt weak and her spy-training fought to gain control. As they drew nearer, Cammie had the sudden desire to disappear—but it was too late. He saw her.

"Cammie?"

She waved reluctantly, a smile resting painfully on her lips. "Hey, Zach."

* * *

"No!" Annie cried. Her cookie flew across the room as she jumped up, tears threatening to spill over.

Her grandmother laughed quietly, though her appearance looked much like that of the young girl. "You get so worked up over that part, but you've heard it a million times."

Annie theatrically pressed a hand to her chest. "But the Prince is supposed to stay with the Princess and tell her he loves her and save her and stuff!"

"Nuh-uh," Gabe argued. The sugar in his system made him more talkative. "Princes fight dragons and kill monsters. Besides, girls are _gross_."

He wrinkled his nose at the word and his friend glared. "Nooo, boys are grosser."

"Well, girls are gross_est_," he countered, smirking triumphantly. He chomped down on another treat and turned back to the elderly lady. She smiled gently at the children, wondering how they would end up in the future.

"Someday, you won't think they're gross at all," she assured them.

The innocent pair gazed up at the woman as she prepared to move on.

* * *

"Cammie, this is Isabella Garcia," he introduced. "Bella, this is Cammie, an old friend of mine.

A bitter smile stretched across her features as his words burrowed into her chest. They stung, but she pushed back the feeling in favor of anger.

"How have you been?" Zach implored, his arm tightening around the pretty girl's waist. His green eyes were hard, but light, and Cammie couldn't help but feel worse.

"Great," she lied. He knew it too, but it didn't matter to her. "I'm just here for work. Now if you'd excuse me..."

A hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. _He's with 'Bella' now_, she reminded herself. The nail in her heart went a little deeper. "For how long?"

She wanted to scream. Why was he touching her? Why was he here? And who in the bloody _world_ was Isabella?

"Two weeks," she finally told him, fury leaking from every fiber of her being. "Two weeks, tops."

Zach released her arm, looking as though she had burned him. Good, she wanted to laugh. She wanted him to feel that same stinging she did.

"_Mi amor_," Isabella cooed—_a knife was plunged deep into Cammie's heart_—latching onto his strong forearm. "We're going to be late for dinner if we don't hurry."

And_…twist._

Cammie gestured towards the girl. "You heard her. Wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting, right?"

With those bitter words, Cammie left both of them, confidence oozing with every step she took. Zach watched her leave, eyes dark and softening at the sight of her retreating back.

When she was finally in the safety of the empty elevator, she collapsed against the wall with a heavy breath. "Good job, Gallagher Girl," she told herself. "Just hold it together for a little longer."

As the blonde girl waited for the elevator to stop, her eyes drifted shut and she prayed they wouldn't run into each other again.

Days passed and Cammie was able to complete her assignment with minimal contact between herself and a certain green-eyed enigma. Her journey home, however, was a different story altogether.

Instead of riding first-class on some fancy jet, Zach had chosen to take the train, if only to prolong his travels. He couldn't face her just yet.

"I'm so sorry," a soft voice apologized when he bumped into them. He bent down to retrieve the folders she dropped and placed them into her waiting hands.

"My fault," he said. As soon as he spoke, a startled gasp escaped the woman's lips and he looked up.

Green eyes met blue and they just sat there. And stared.

"Right," Cammie coughed, breaking the tense moment. "Well, I've got to go. My stop's right here."

Zach glanced out the window. "No it isn't. Our stop isn't until five."

It was currently 11 o'clock in the morning. They still had six hours to go. Cammie shook her head adamantly. "Nope, sorry. I'm out."

_Stupid,_ she scolded herself. That was so…not classy. Then again, he wasn't one to judge at the moment. With that thought in her head, she stopped at the doors and sat down in one of the nearest seats.

"Look, Gallagher Girl—" he began.

"Not now," she stopped him, pleading with her gaze. "Please, Zach…not right now."

Eventually, he nodded. "Okay."

* * *

"What happened after that?" Gabe asked, feigning boredom. In reality, he was curious. He wanted to know if the boy and girl were okay. Were they friends again? Did she stay mad at him?

Annie gazed up at her grandmother, who smiled sadly as she looked back out the window. Snow would fall soon. She was sure of it.

"Grandma?" She spoke quietly.

The tired woman slowly turned her attention to the youngsters sitting side by side at her feet. The fog that clouded her mind and eyes cleared away as she blinked, opening her mouth to respond.

"They spoke again after that," she told the children. "Turns out, he fell in love while he was in Barcelona. Zach and Bella got married a few years later and he quit the spy business."

"What about Cammie?" Annie questioned, jumping up anxiously. "Did she meet someone else?"

A laugh escaped the lips of the old story-teller. "But of course! Fell in love all over again, she did. But that boy...she never forgot about him. To this day, she talks about him every once in a while."

"Was she happy?" Gabe asked with a wise look in his eye. The grandmother frowned slightly as she looked at him, knowing he was too young to question happiness.

"I believe she was," she answered, blue eyes brightening.

Annie furrowed her eyebrows in concentration as she tried to think of another question to ask—something she hadn't asked before. It was hard to find new ones after hearing the story so many times. Her eyes widened slightly when the question came to her.

"What about her Prince? Does she get a Prince?" She was jumping up and down excitedly by then. Gabe rolled his eyes and puffed out his cheeks as a sign of displeasure because he realized: there weren't any dragons in the story.

"Well, no…" the woman replied carefully, trying to find the right words. "But she didn't need a Prince. She was strong and smart. Independent, too."

"What?" Annie exclaimed in a high squeal. "But every princess needs a prince to save her, remember, Gran? _Remember_?"

A slow, lingering grin touched her lips as she passed the last of the cookies to her granddaughter and the young boy. She nodded, and for the first time in a long while, her eyes glinted with the strong-willed look of a well-seasoned agent. "Yes, but this isn't exactly the story of a Prince and Princess, now is it? They're spies, darling. And spies don't need saving."

The trio took a long moment to think. Annie thought about every fairytale she'd ever read. Gabe imagined the monsters he would include when he retold the story to his parents. And Cammie, as she leaned back in her rocking chair, worn hands gripping the wooden arms, she reminisced about her old life—back when she struggled to juggle her work and personal life. When she was on the radar of some of the most dangerous people in the world.

"You wanna race?" Gabe suddenly asked Annie, breaking the trance Cammie had fallen into.

"Okay!" And the pair of elementary schoolers trotted out of the old, creaking house without a glance back.

She sighed contentedly then, shifting her gaze to the window as the dust from the ground was kicked up with their clumsy steps.

The wind blew gently through the cracks in her window, lifting strands of gray hairs from her weary face. The house was quiet, bare, and lonely once again—far too large for just one person. But she just rocked back and forth in her old chair, humming to herself.

They would come back soon, she knew. And maybe she would tell another story.

* * *

**a/n: okay, so...what do you think? this idea has been on my mind for months now, and i finally whipped it up. just over 3000 words. -cheers gleefully- anyways. check out the Gallagher Girls Fiction Challenge if you can. it's a forum run by matisse and i (though i'm still on temp. hiatus) so...yeah.**

**if you have any questions or you wanna chat, feel free to message me on wattpad at "stealtheworld" or pm me here (i check my wattpad account more often than this one, though).**

_**always and blissfully yours,  
max**_

**p.s. i love you guys.**


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